Do you ever get tired of someone asking how you are feeling every single day? I do.

Thankfully, I have a very caring mother who is worried about me for obvious reasons. However, every day she asks me how I am which includes how I slept, how my pain is, how my back pain is, how my migraines are, if my stomach is distended, etc etc.

While I appreciate her caring and taking an interest, it is rather upsetting for me to feel like I have to quantify how I am doing every single day. When I brought this up to her, her response was that she cares enormously and I know that to be true. I know she doesn’t want to upset me by asking these questions. She just wants me to know she is there for me and I appreciate having someone in my life like that more than she will ever realize.

However, sometimes I feel like I am in a doctor’s office where I have to say how I am doing on a scale of 1-10.

I also notice if at the time she asks, I am doing pretty okay, but then later on in the day don’t feel well, she seems dumbfounded. Then it becomes “I don’t understand. I thought you were doing better.”

It is comments like that that make me want to scream “what part of chronic illness do you not understand?” Again, I don’t mean this in a negative way towards my mom or anyone who may be asking you how you are doing all of the time. I know it is nothing more than an act of concern. And also, my mom, like most parents, wants to “fix things.” The fact that she cannot get me “better” is something I know most parents of IBDers struggle with. Chronic illness is a family disease.

While I am not a parent, it must be heartbreaking to know your child is sick and there is not a damn thing you can do to fix or even help the problem.

I am sharing this with you because I feel somewhat guilty for getting mad at my mom when she asks all of the time. I know it comes from love but it hurts me to talk about it always. It hurts me to feel like I am complaining all of the time to her. It hurts me that I don’t have an answer to why I slept semi okay one day but was up the entire night the next. I wish I had answers to my complicated body because if I did, I would gladly share them.

Do any of you have this in your life? Can you relate at all? Or, are you a loved one of someone with IBD and don’t know how else to help but ask questions? I would love to hear other people’s experiences. It might even help my mom and I communicate better.